


bury me in memory

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Crack, Crack Fic, Don't Ask, Established Relationship, M/M, Time Travel, by which I mean they fuck in the other room while everyone else watches Star Wars, idek anymore, minor selfcest, stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Trick? What's up?" He asks, sitting up in bed. </p><p>"Okay, I can't...it's. It's today, okay?" Patrick replies, voice shaking. Highway noise and honking car horns make up the background noise. "I'm trying to make it home but I won't be there in time, so you need to...oh god."</p><p>"What's today? Is everything okay?" Pete frowns. </p><p>"Pete. Is there anyone else in the house?" Patrick asks, completely ignoring the question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bury me in memory

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an MCR fic I can't find. Yikes. 
> 
> You can't stop me I will write so much crack and there is no escape
> 
> Also, about the tags, if you read them...uh, I can explain. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Pete's phone rings. 

He pauses the music blasting from his laptop (which certainly isn't his playlist labeled only "Patrick", containing all of their songs and Patrick's solo stuff because sometimes he just likes to hear his voice, yeah, it certainly isn't that) and picks up.

"Hello?" He asks, not having bothered to check the caller ID.

"Shit." Is all he gets in response. 

"'Trick? What's up?" He asks, sitting up in bed. 

"Okay, I can't...it's. It's today, okay?" Patrick replies, voice shaking. Highway noise and honking car horns make up the background noise. "I'm trying to make it home but I won't be there in time, so you need to...oh god."

"What's today? Is everything okay?" Pete frowns. 

"Pete. Is there anyone else in the house?" Patrick asks, completely ignoring the question. 

"Uh, no." Pete furrows his brow. "Why? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah." Patrick breathes out. He's hyperventilating, Pete can hear it over the phone. 

"Hey, listen-" Pete begins, put he's cut off by a crash from the kitchen and someone loudly yelling, " _Oh, shit!_ "

"Pete?" Patrick asks. 

"Okay, I was wrong, I think there is someone in the house." Pete whispers, suddenly afraid whoever has broken in will hear him. 

"Kitchen?" Patrick asks simply. 

"Um. Yeah...how'd you know that?" Pete asks, still keeping his voice low. 

"Don't freak out." Patrick says, not answering the question yet again, and then he hangs up. 

Pete sighs and sets down his phone. Obviously, it's time to go after the kitchen invader. He can still hear movement, it sounds like whoever it is is making a huge mess and desperately failing at cleaning up. 

Pete grabs a pillow, because it's the only possible weapon he can see (it's a terrible one at best), slowly gets out of bed, and starts towards the kitchen. Moonlight streams in through the windows.

"Hey, who's there?" He calls out, and though he'd never admit it, his voice is shaking. "I have...a pillow...and I'm not afraid to use it!" 

There's no response, but the banging noises stop. 

Pete tiptoes closer and closer to the closed kitchen door, then, in one fluid movement, he shoves it open and starts wildly swinging his pillow. 

"Fuck!" A very familiar voice yells. "For the record, this is not how I imagined this happening."

Pete's eyes widen and he drops the pillow, and he's looking at... _Patrick_. Except, not 2016, just-fairly-recently-32 Patrick. This Patrick is ever-so-slightly younger, practically dripping with sweat, and wearing smeared eyeliner, a bright red suit, and _devil horns._

 _Soul Punk_ , Pete's brain ever-so-unhelpfully supplies to him. 

"What. The fuck." He hisses out. He looks around to see a mess of pots and pans, just like he'd expected, but he certainly wasn't expecting to see the person who was standing awkwardly in front of him in the middle of it all. 

"Um." Patrick, but not present Patrick, Pete decides that in his head this is now Soul Punk Patrick, bites his lip. "Long story."

"You bet it's a fucking long story, I- _how are you even standing here what the fuck_." Pete manages, somewhat in shock. 

Soul Punk Patrick looks very annoyed. "Um, I have legs? That's how I'm standing here. Seriously."

Pete sighs. That's one thing he didn't miss about Patrick during the hiatus. Way, _way_ too much sarcasm. "You know what I meant."

"Time travel." Soul Punk Patrick supplies. 

"I think I figured that out on my own, thanks." Pete glares. "But _how_?"

"Strategically placed wormhole?" Someone says, but Soul Punk Patrick didn't say anything, and the voice is coming from behind Pete, not in front of him. 

Pete spins around to see _another_ Patrick, but this one even younger; maybe circa From Under The Cork Tree. Maybe a little later. Pete's going off the ridiculous sideburns and trucker hat. 

"Okay, what the actual fuck." He says simply, and that conveys the situation very well. "Where did you come from?"

"I think the better question is _when_ did I come from." The newest arrival corrects him, and Pete decides he hates both of them. 

"Haha, funny." He hisses. "What, 2005?"

"2007, actually. Nice try." 2007 Patrick, as Pete is now going to call him, rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, fuck this, what is even happening?" Pete groans. 

"I second that." Another person speaks up, and Pete is about to whirl around and attack, but when he turns he sees a very young, very scared looking Patrick who couldn't be from later than right after they released Take This To Your Grave, so he backs off. 

"Please tell me this is it." Pete mutters. 

"This is it, don't worry." Soul Punk Patrick says. "Well, I mean except for present day, but you didn't mean that."

Pete sighs and turns his attention back to the youngest version of Patrick (Pete decides to just call him Young Patrick), who is cowering behind the doorframe. Obviously, _he_ has no idea what's going on, and Pete's glad he's finally not alone in that boat. 

"Okay, someone explain." Pete says, and he can practically _feel_ the staring contest between Soul Punk Patrick and 2007 Patrick over who's going to fill him in. Soul Punk Patrick must blink first, because 2007 not-so-helpfully informs him, "We all show up on this specific day, May 22, 2016, for no other reason other than we do. I've already lived through this once, but as him." He points to Young Patrick, who's still looking extremely scared. 

"That's not confusing at all." Pete says dryly.

"It's really confusing, actually." Young Patrick mutters. 

Everyone turns back to him, which he obviously didn't want to happen, because he cowers even further behind the door. "I just. I mean."

Soul Punk Patrick's face suddenly softens, and he smiles reassuringly. "Hey, right. I remember this. You don't like these, right?" He points to the faux horns that are currently in the process of falling off his head.

Young Patrick nods slowly. 

"Yeah. I'll take them off, see?" Soul Punk Patrick rips off the headpiece and throws it aside, where it hits the wall and lands on a discarded frying pan (which, what the fuck was Soul Punk Patrick _doing_ in here earlier?). "Sorry, I wouldn't even have them, I just showed up here right after a show. Okay?"

Young Patrick nods. "Yeah. Okay." Then he straightens up, a little bit of fear gone. "Why would you have those during a show? Is that a thing we do now? Or, whenever now is for you?"

"Uh." Soul Punk Patrick loses his confidence with that one question, and Pete can understand. "Well. We're not...um."

"He has a solo career." Pete says, saying what no one else seemed ready to say.

Young Patrick pales. "Does that mean the band..." He leaves it hanging, but everyone knows what he was going to say. "Are we still..."

"No. Yes." Pete groans. "Well, in the present time, where I am, thank you very much, yes. But."

"For me, no." Soul Punk Patrick finishes. 

Young Patrick frowns. "But who's from further in the future?"

Both Soul Punk and 2007 unhelpfully smirk and point at Pete, who rolls his eyes. 

"So...the band broke up and then got back together?" Young Patrick asks, frown deepening. 

"Yeah." Pete answers. 

"Boy, I sure am looking forward to that." 2007 Patrick says dryly. 

"It's liberating." Soul Punk Patrick smirks. 

"Wait." Pete says. "So you all just showed up? I mean, Soul Punk says he just finished a show, but...where did the other two come from?"

"Don't call me Soul Punk." Soul Punk Patrick frowns. "But yes."

"On the bus. Someone might be worrying about me." 2007 Patrick sighs. "Too bad."

"Shopping at Best Buy." Young Patrick replies. 

Soul Punk and 2007 freeze and give Pete weird looks, and Pete rolls his eyes and gives them an "over it" look, but they don't seem convinced. 

"What? What did I say?" Young Patrick looks worried. 

Pete opens his mouth to speak, but Soul Punk glares at him. "Shh. Don't scar the kid for life." 

"I'm not a kid." Young Patrick mutters. "And it can't be _that_ bad."

"What?" Pete asks when he suddenly has two sets of eyes (the _same_ eyes, yikes) on him again. "Oh, come on. It's gonna happen anyway, you know."

He's still getting glared at while Young Patrick looks at them all helplessly, and he's almost pleasantly surprised when he hears the front door slam open and a loud yell of, "Oh my god, I'm home! I'm sorry, the traffic was terrible, but I'm here now, oh god, I-"

The yell cuts off when the one yelling appears in the doorway; and thank god, it's Patrick, _Pete's_ Patrick, like, from right now, _finally_. Young Patrick is hiding even further back to his right, staring wide-eyed at the oldest version of himself. 

"Well, I see you're all acquainted." Patrick comments casually. 

"What the fuck, 'Trick." Pete says simply, and Patrick sighs. 

"I know, I know, I should've remembered that it was today earlier, but I didn't, and I just remembered on the way home, and-" He rushes out. 

"Chill." Pete interrupts. "It's fine."

Patrick lets out a breath Pete couldn't tell he had been holding. "Oh god. Good."

"Nice hat." Young Patrick speaks up weakly. 

Patrick turns and smiles comfortingly at him, tapping his fedora fondly. "Yeah? You like it?"

Young Patrick nods, grinning back. He finally seems at peace. 

"Good, he's forgotten." Soul Punk Patrick says, completely ruining everything. 

"Forgotten what?" Patrick asks, looking up, then frowns. "Oh god, what did you mention?"

Young Patrick frowns. "They started it!" 

Patrick raises an eyebrow at Soul Punk Patrick and 2007 Patrick. "Started what?"

"Nothing." 2007 Patrick says. 

"Actually, no one would've cared about what he said if neither of you gave me that look, which, seriously, I'm over it. It's been over ten years, come on." Pete interjects. 

"Two years for me." 2007 Patrick huffs, crossing his arms. 

Patrick groans. "Oh god, you didn't bring _that_ up, did you?"

"He said 'Best Buy'!" Soul Punk Patrick defended, pointing an accusatory finger at Young Patrick.

"Yeah, but it didn't have to mean anything other than a store." Patrick sighs, then gives Pete a helpless look. "Was I really that stupid in the past?"

Pete shrugs and nods. 

"Hey!" Soul Punk Patrick and 2007 Patrick both exclaim, sounding scandalized. 

"But what's wrong with Best Buy?" Young Patrick asks. "No one has explained it to me!"

Now there are _three_ sets of identical eyes on Pete, and he glares at (current) Patrick. "Oh, come on. Even you?"

"I mean, it _was_ you." Patrick mutters. 

"Alright, off of this subject now." Pete says. 

Young Patrick looks like he's about to protest, but then thinks better of it. 

"House tour!" 2007 Patrick suddenly suggests, and Soul Punk Patrick and (present day) Patrick give him weird, identical looks like they _know_ what he's trying to get at.

"Oh. This is your house, right?" Young Patrick asks Pete, eyes brightening. "It's nice."

"Yeah, it's mine...um..." Pete scratches the back of his neck. 

Patrick sighs. "And mine."

"Oh, so you're, like, roommates. With a house." Young Patrick says, staring blankly. 

"Sure." Pete replies, drawing the word out too long. 

2007 Patrick makes a strangled choking noise and Soul Punk Patrick claps his hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter. Patrick glares at both of them. 

"So, how about that tour, _house roommates_?" Soul Punk Patrick smirks. 

"What happened to 'don't scar the kid'?" Patrick hisses. 

"That's not scarring him, okay?" Soul Punk hisses back. 

Young Patrick looks confused and 2007 Patrick looks overjoyed. Pete just sighs. This is ridiculous. 

"Sure. House tour. Really quickly." Patrick agrees grudgingly, then says, "So this is the kitchen, as you probably guessed, and there," he points to the doorway Young Patrick is in, "is the way to the front door and the living room, and back there," he points to the doorway that Pete came through to get here in the first place, "is the bathroom, the bedroom, and stairs to the basement, which, by the way, is pretty small, but awesome. We've got a ton of instruments and stuff down there." He turns back. "You happy?"

"Wait. _The_ bedroom? Like. One?" Young Patrick's eyes widen, as if he's making wild calculations inside his head.

Soul Punk Patrick's grin widens (if that's even possible) and 2007 Patrick bursts into laughter.

"You totally planned this." Pete glares at them, and they both just nod. 

" _One_ bedroom?" Young Patrick repeats. "I thought you both lived here."

"We do." Patrick's voice sounds strangled, and he's busy glaring at his younger selves who are still sharing looks and laughter like teenage girls. 

"But you only have...oh." It actually looks like a lightbulb has gone on over Young Patrick's head. He gapes. "Oh, you... _oh_." 

"Um." Pete mutters. "Well."

He's just going to ignore Soul Punk and 2007 at this point. 

"You...but..." Young Patrick frowns at Pete. "But you're _hot_!" Then his eyes widens and he claps a hand over his mouth like he said something that he really shouldn't have.

Pete raises an eyebrow. "Um. Thanks? I...what does that have to with anything?"

"And I'm _not_." Young Patrick mutters, then looks at all his future selves (spending a lot of time on Soul Punk) and amends, "Yet."

"Of course you are!" Pete frowns, then realizes, yeah, that was about the time when Patrick's self esteem was at its lowest. Great. 

Young Patrick shakes his head. 

"Yes." Pete repeats. "Look, if you weren't, I wouldn't have ended up where I am now, doing this." He grabs Patrick, glad he hadn't accidentally gotten the wrong one, and kisses him. 

Patrick is surprised, but then kisses back for a moment before pulling away. 

"Well, that's hot." 2007 Patrick says _very_ loudly. 

Soul Punk whistles as if to agree with him.

"Fuck off." Pete glares. 

Young Patrick just gapes. "Oh. My god. I don't...I'm not...well."

Then Pete remembers that's also around the time when Patrick would do absolutely anything to disregard his sexuality. This probably wasn't helping. 

"Dude. Make out with me next." Soul Punk Patrick says, and 2007 raises his hand as if to also claim dibs. 

Pete groans. " _No_."

Soul Punk pouts. "But you _know_ I'm from the time when I couldn't have you, and I _miss_ you."

Pete rolls his eyes. "Clingy much?"

"It's been a _year_!" Soul Punk insists, huffing. 

"Oh my god." Pete mutters. He turns to Patrick for backup, but Patrick is just grinning. 

"I mean, that'd be interesting to see." He says, still grinning. 

"Oh, not you too." Pete glares. "I swear-"

He doesn't get to finish that threat, because Soul Punk has decided he won't take no for an answer, and he grabs Pete's shirt and pulls him into a kiss. Pete forgets any qualms he had about this, because Soul Punk tastes like sweat and desperation and _is that cherry lip gloss?_ Also, Pete knows this kiss. Obviously, Soul Punk wasn't kidding about missing him, because this was the same kiss he remembers from when they finally got back together, about when the band did. This kiss means _I miss you._

Pete finally pulls away before it could spiral out of control. "Chill. Whoa."

Soul Punk Patrick huffs, but seems satisfied. 

"That was even more hot." 2007 speaks up, again very loudly. 

"I've got to agree with that." Patrick says, and Pete turns and raises and eyebrow.

"Seriously? You too?" He asks, repeating himself. 

"I can't deny hotness, Pete." Patrick shrugs. 

"I think, logically, it's my turn now." 2007 Patrick declares. 

"Am I supposed to just make out with everyone? _All of you_?" Pete groans. 

"Yeah." Surprisingly, Young Patrick answers. "Probably."

"Oh, whatever." Pete grabs 2007 and kisses him just to get it over with. Mostly. 2007 kisses like, well, 2007. Like when they could just kiss without it meaning anything, but it meant everything. Pete won't admit it, but he missed that. 

Then he lets go before _that_ can spiral even more out of control, and he barely gets a breath out before Young Patrick is kissing _him_ , which, hell, he didn't expect that, and suddenly he's reminded of a fleeting memory, all those years back. 

_"Y'know, you were the first person I ever kissed."_

_"Seriously? Hell, I thought you were experienced. You knew what you were doing. You sure no one taught you that?"_

_"You did."_

_"Well, okay. Sure."_

And, oh shit, he _did_. Pete decides that this day, May 22, 2016, has impacted his life more than he'd care to admit. 

He ends this one early, too, because especially this he doesn't want to screw up. 

2007 whistles and Soul Punk grins and says, extremely loudly, "Fuck this, I'm making out with myself."

Patrick only has time to squeak out "You're _what_?" before Soul Punk starts kissing him, which as a bystander, Pete admits is a bit of a mindfuck. 

"Oh. My god. I am watching myself make out with myself." Young Patrick whispers. 

"This is fucked up." Pete agrees with what Young Patrick never said aloud. 

"Oh god, I think they're using tongue." Young Patrick whispers, which is when Pete decides it's time to end this, so he walks over and pushes the two Patricks apart. 

"Alright, you two, don't take that too far." He says, sighing. 

"Whoa." Patrick whispers. "I didn't know I could kiss like _that_."

Pete rolls his eyes. "You can. Shut up."

He's vaguely aware that 2007 and Soul Punk have started making out now, and everyone is, aren't they? Young Patrick is looking left out in the corner, and Pete walks over and just kisses him once, quickly. "What's up?"

"This is inexplicably hot." Young Patrick answers. "Holy shit."

Pete sighs. He knows that look. "Hey. Listen to me." 

Young Patrick looks up. "Hm?"

"You're gay. Get over it." Pete says, then kisses him quickly again for good measure. 

"Yeah." Young Patrick mutters. "Totally."

Pete grins. 

"Whoa, no, keep your pants on!" Someone yells, and he turns to see Patrick pushing 2007 and Soul Punk apart. "That's fucked up!"

"Well, that was the _point_." 2007 frowns. "Before you stopped us."

"Yeah." Soul Punk huffs. "I wanted to give 'go fuck yourself' a new meaning."

"No, no, no, and _no_." Patrick says firmly. 

"Then I'll just fuck Pete." Soul Punk says smoothly. 

"Okay, no, no one is fucking anyone." Pete frowns. 

"Well, you _did_ just make out with four different versions of your boyfriend." 2007 points out, extremely unhelpfully. 

"Oh, thanks, I couldn't tell." Pete snaps, glaring at him. 

"Chill." Patrick says, and everyone quiets. "Okay, setting boundaries. If you're actually going to go beyond making out, use the bedroom. And you," he glares at Soul Punk, "are not going to fuck Pete."

"Damn it." Soul Punk mutters.

"Okay, but what about me?" 2007 asks. 

"Still no." Patrick says. "Don't even think about it."

"I'm thinking about it a lot, actually." 2007 Patrick grins, and Pete punches him in the arm. 

"This is, like, the gayest thing ever." Young Patrick says suddenly. 

"Mm, nah, I'm pretty sure that's Pretty. Odd." Pete shakes his head. 

"What?" Young Patrick and 2007 Patrick ask in unison. 

"Oh yeah, you don't know what that is." Pete says. 

"It's gay." Soul Punk informs them. 

"Hey, wanna take up the bedroom offer?" 2007 asks Soul Punk, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Oh yeah." Soul Punk grins, and the two immediately disappear down the hall. 

"Oh my _god_." Patrick groans. "I cannot believe them."

"They're you." Pete points out. 

"And I've matured a lot more than I thought since then." Patrick sighs, shaking his head. 

"So." Young Patrick suddenly speaks up, and Pete and Patrick both jump in surprise and turn to him. 

"Yes?" Patrick asks. 

"You two." Young Patrick says, and it's obvious what he means. 

"Uh...yeah." Pete replies. "Us."

"Are you sure that really happens?" Young Patrick asks, his face an unreadable mask (for now). "I mean, in my time, it seems like..."

"Oh, god, I'm _not_ straight, don't believe me if I tell you that." Pete suddenly says, because he's pretty sure that's exactly what Young Patrick meant. 

It must be, because Young Patrick nods. "Okay. You're sure?"

"No, I'm a straight guy with a boyfriend." Pete deadpans. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Huh." Young Patrick says, looking thoughtful. 

Something hits the wall down the hall, and Patrick groans. "What are they _doing_ in there?"

"I don't want to know." Pete shakes his head. 

"Me neither." Young Patrick agrees. 

"How about we all watch a movie?" Patrick suggests. 

"Anything that covers up that noise." Pete agrees. 

"Future movies?" Young Patrick asks, looking amazed. 

Patrick laughs. "Yes. Did you know there's a new Star Wars?"

Young Patrick breaks into a grin. 

~*~

Pete isn't really sure when 2007 and Soul Punk joined them on the couch, but now he has four Patricks sprawled across him, asleep, in various positions on the couch. Onscreen, Rey holds the lightsaber out to Luke and the credits roll. 

"It's over." Pete says quietly, to see if anyone's awake. 

"I know." Patrick mutters, burrowing into Pete's side. 

"Okay." Pete nods. 

It's silent but for the movie end credits music, then Patrick speaks. 

"Sorry I didn't tell you about my tendency to time travel." He mutters. 

"It's all good." Pete replies, eyeing the other three Patricks, who were all actually asleep, fondly, and carding his hand through Patrick's hair. 

"Love you." Patrick mutters sleepily. 

Pete smiles. "Love you too."

~*~

When Pete wakes up, he's alone on the couch with Patrick. 

"They're gone." He says aloud. 

Patrick stirs and yawns, snuggling into Pete's chest. "Mm. Yeah."

"Okay." Pete shrugs, then asks, "Was that a dream?"

Patrick shakes his head. "Nope. Very real."

"Huh." Pete mutters thoughtfully. "Any other instances of spontaneous time travel I should know about?"

"No...?" Patrick replies. 

"There are, aren't there?" Pete asks, laughing. 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Patrick replies, giggling a little. 

"Mhm." Pete mutters. "Love you."

"Love you too." Patrick murmurs back. 

Pete grins.


End file.
